


A Precipice of Sorts

by scienceofficerjim-kirk (DemiPalladium)



Series: Instructor [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 30 percent more science wording, Academy Era, Alternate Universe, Cadet James T. Kirk, Gen, Gift, I originally posted this two years ago on Tumblr, Instructor Spock, Jim and Spock meet before the trial, Jim speaks Vulcan au, M/M, Starfleet Academy, academy au, and I thought it was....good for what I could do then, and maybe like 5 percent better flow, and much much much better pacing, at least I think I can pfft, but I can do better now, for therebewhaleshere/onedamnminuteadmiral, fun fact: I started drafting a sequel to the original and a lot of the new material here is from it, gratuitous use of the Vulcan language, now with 25 percent better less passive voice, someone tell me how to structure sentences in Vulcan please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemiPalladium/pseuds/scienceofficerjim-kirk
Summary: He first has the pleasure of meeting the infamous James Tiberius Kirk, son of Commodore Winona Kirk and hero George Kirk, when the cadet appears in the advanced testing room 8.7 days prior to the start of the upcoming semester.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Instructor [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591615
Comments: 14
Kudos: 242





	A Precipice of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThereBeWhalesHere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereBeWhalesHere/gifts).



> Hello! It's been two years since I posted the original version of this on Tumblr, and I've been itching to rewrite it _for_ those two years. Plus someone requested 20k words more of the same 'cause they liked it so much but I can't project and this is as good as I can fill that request. Original will be up for archival/lamenting-how-I've-lost-all-ability-to-write-Spock's-voice-because-now-I-use-pillowy-purple-prose-to-compensate-for-my-own-lack-of-emotional-comprehension (l m a o) purposes eventually. Enjoy
> 
> (See end notes for Vulcan word translations)

In order to assure his time is being used most efficiently, instructor S’chn T’gai Spock of Starfleet Academy has roughly 75.2% of every day planned out weeks in advance. The final 24.8% of this is “free time,” consumed not by any leisure activities but instead by human-caused inefficiencies and deviations from his pre-laid path. When planning, Spock assigns six hours of meditation to Saturday and Sunday nights. While this may seem excessive to any Vulcan unacquainted to Terra and its inhabitants, he and other of his species on Earth find it best to take full advantage of their less-busy nights to “stock up” on meditation for the upcoming week, as there is no guarantee of successful meditation on any given evening.

It is Saturday night, and Spock is 26.7 minutes into his six hours of meditation. Under ideal circumstances, he would be 21.2 minutes into a mid-level meditative state after 5.5 minutes of shallow-level daily review. Under realistic circumstances, he would spend anywhere from 4.0 to 8.5 minutes in light daily contemplation and be 22.7 minutes to 18.2 minutes into mid-level meditation. To guarantee optimal function throughout the week, he must spend a minimum of four hours in deep-level meditation tonight.

Currently, he is not. Not in a mid-level meditative state, despite the energy allocated to his current task. Not in a shallow-level meditation, despite his intentions. Prior to meditation, Spock mentally reviews the most intense, fascinating, and illogical happenings of the time elapsed since the previous session. Though a preliminary step many Vulcans even on Terra find useless, this light meditation allows him to deliver weekly well-being reports to Amanda with a 25.5% greater positive effect on his mother's mental state. For such a marked difference in her well-being, it would be illogical not to spend less than ten minutes pre-organizing his mind before entering deeper into meditation. 

Despite this, instructor S’chn T’gai Spock of Starfleet Academy finds no fault in his reason for lingering on the subject.

It-- _he_ \--is singularly _fascinating._

——————

Starfleet’s pre-testing period, consisting of a series of tests administered mostly to incoming freshmen in order to determine eligibility for exemptions from required classes, is the one time of year Spock can expect perfect (or near-perfect) attendance. Despite their lack of familiarity with the campus grounds, the to-be student body “still have the fear of God in ‘em,” claimed Captain Pike once, “so the world could be ending and you’d still find a line outside your door.” During his years of instruction, Spock has found this statement, while factually incorrect, “not without modal merit” (his mother’s words) in its ability to communicate its intended message. Additionally, being able to potentially skip required coursework is a motivating reward in its own right, so there is much incentive for the rather mercurial consumers of Starfleet Academy’s teaching inventory to be on time or have alternative arrangements made prior to the last second, as older cadets, more familiar with the faults and weaknesses of Starfleet Academy’s processes, are seemingly wont to do.

During this time, Spock is also proctor to a series of intensive linguistic tests known as the Bilingual Aptitude and Masterful Fluency exams (often abbreviated as the “BAMF” exams, a source of unclear-in-origin amusement for his students) for Universal Standard, Modern Vulcan, and High Vulcan on request of Starfleet and the Terra-T’Khasi Diplomatic Corps, hosted on Starfleet’s campus for ease of access—96.4% of all test-takers are Starfleet Communications track. Most (70.1%) of those Communications track students seek further research opportunities and stationing on the planet hosting their respective language.

In the case of Vulcan—its language, its culture, its people—it befits those scant few interested in attempting to penetrate its immaculate seals of privacy to make a good first impression and attend the Bilingual Aptitude and Masterful Fluency exam in a timely manner.

Spock’s first test of the day, a BAMF exam in Modern Vulcan, will commence at 0845. By 0826, all eight students on the role sheet have checked in, a start in adapting to the punctuality that will be required of them on the dunes of his homeworld.

The students are now clustered around the largest table in the waiting room, and snippets of last-minute review float over to his workstation in the form of accent critiques tinged with the acrid stench of the _Coffea arabica_ bean.

All eight participants of today’s Modern Vulcan exam are former students of his, and the first class he has seen from Modern Vulcan 202 to Modern Vulcan 604. Here, Spock allows himself to feel what may pass for satisfaction amongst Vulcans: he is seeing his labors ( _extensive_ labors, in the case of Cadet Fujiwara) come to efficient and efficacious fruition, and his students have taken up the path he has laid down for them. He is secure in the knowledge of their commendable performances on the subsequent test and their future postings. 

As Spock is a Vulcan, he is capable of lightly meditating on today’s circumstances while engaging in more productive work: checking and replying to various work-related emails.

A new message pops up at the top of his inbox. From Captain Pike, the subject line reads **Have one more open slot for today’s MV/HV BAMF Exams?**. It is the only warning he gets before the cadet enters the room.

_Nobody told me there was another Vulcan in Starfleet._

The thought, catching him off-guard like a cold front, sweeps past the filters of his eloquence, the dictionaries of his tongue blasted open with a chilly wind. It is—not unlike being dunked into cold water.

(This—this is a Vulcan.)

Seeing this cadet is not unlike being dunked into cold water. He moves like a native of Dahhanakahr, where Vulcans of lighter complexion are not uncommon, much more common than Shi’Kahr—he must be from there. His strides are heavyset with cognitive purpose, his blue eyes dark with the burden of above-above-average intelligence.

“ _Dif-tor heh smusma, orensu S’chn-T’gai_ ,” the cadet greets. He offers Spock a _ta’al_ and a small bow.

His hair parts. His ears are round. And pink.

(This is—not a Vulcan.)

Spock’s hand makes a _ta’al_ in return. It is 12.8% faster than normal. “ _Sochya-eh dif, ne-lan_ ,” he replies. Were he not Vulcan, his response would have been—startled.

As it is, his throat is uncomfortably dry. “You are not on the role,” he recovers, looking the cadet in the eyes. “State your purpose.”

Something reminding Spock of a _le-matya’s_ predatory fangs glints in his gaze. “I have gained dispensation from _khart-lan_ Pike and the _Shikh-orna_ , _savensu_ , to take both the Modern Vulcan and High Vulcan Bilingual Aptitude exams today,” he states, crisp as the leaves of the _kal’ta_ plant. He hands over a PADD.

(Spock does not experience disappointment at the lack of touch in the exchange.)

It is a simple matter to cross-reference and verify the permission granted on the PADD and his new email from _khart-lan_ Pike, and Spock does so with a sweep of his gaze.

“ _Are you assured of your desire to take both examinations today?_ ” Spock inquires in Modern Vulcan, raising a brow and handing the PADD back to this strange creature.

“ _I will take them_ ,” determines Kirk, with a voice of strongest steel and a steady-confident-captivating look in his eye that Spock cannot tear himself away from, “ _and I will pass them._ ”

——————

It is Saturday night, and Spock is 58.8 minutes into his six hours of meditation. Under ideal circumstances, he would be 55.3 minutes into a mid-level meditative state after 5.5 minutes of shallow-level daily review. He now only has five hours, one minute, and twenty seconds total for meditation.

Spock is unsure what broke him out of his internal reverie, and looks around the room to gather himself. One of his PADDs has switched into standby mode due to low battery charge, and the screen darkening was enough to drag his consciousness away from James T. Kirk—

James T. Kirk, who passed both Modern Vulcan and High Vulcan exams so well, Spock now has reference for the phrase “with flying colors”—

James T. Kirk, whose essays carved a masterful beauty from the marble of rationality, with sentences structured so _fascinating_ and ideas presented so _concisely_ and connections made so _logically_ that the words cannot be anything but stolen—and they are not, somehow, some way, every plagiarism cross-checking program Spock knows of cannot detect anything of substance—

James T. Kirk, who writes Golic script with the reverence of a scripture and the skill of a native-speaker’s hand—

James T. Kirk, who speaks High Vulcan better than Modern Vulcan, speaks it as if it derived from his own personal history, as if the need and the fear and the struggles of the ancients are his own, as if he knows, a Terran suited to a relative life of abundance, what it is like to carve a life, a home, a legacy, _anything lasting_ when the ground beneath you changes and is swept away with the winds—

James T. Kirk, one of two dozen outworlders permitted by the High Council to take the High Vulcan Bilingual Aptitude and Masterful Fluency exam, one of five to pass it, and the only one to attain a perfect score—

James T. Kirk, such a fascinating specimen of humanity that some part of Spock he cannot beat down desires (strongly) to fail him, so that he may spend more time in his presence—

 _Beep_.

Spock’s personal PADD chimes to indicate its status as out of charge. He stands and, carefully schooling his thoughts, swiftly picks up the device, then sets it to charge, disengaging one of his work PADDs from the charging station to free up room. It clicks in with little fanfare.

To guarantee optimal function throughout the week, he must spend a minimum of four hours in deep-level meditation tonight.

To guarantee employment by Starfleet and the renewal of his teaching license, he must also keep all tests he oversees on-file for at least one Terran year.

His eyes slide to the screen of the PADD, wherein copies of Kirk’s tests, essays, and interviews reside.

Perhaps, he thinks, sitting down his meditation mat once more, reviewing them will assist in putting the cadet out of his mind.

(He knows it will not.)

(He does it anyway.)

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to promote aside from the fact that college has killed me and I lost the password to my original account so I've just been stalking Tumblr using [scienceofficerjim-kirk](https://scienceofficerjim-kirk.tumblr.com/)
> 
> tanaf-kitaun: calligraphy  
> T'Khasi: the planet Vulcan (see also: Ah'rak, Valdena)  
> Dahhanakahr: a city on Vulcan, far away from Shi'Kahr  
> Shi'Kahr: Vulcan's capitol city, Spock's hometown  
> Dif-tor heh smusma: live long and prosper (call)  
> orensu: honorific, like sir or ma'am but weightier  
> ta'al: the hand thingy  
> Sochya-eh dif: peace and long life (response)  
> le-matya: a sabertooth tiger, but poisonous and lives on Vulcan  
> savensu: teacher  
> ne-lan: cadet, trainee  
> khart-lan: captain  
> Shikh-orna: council, in this context the High Council on Vulcan  
> kal'ta: desert succulent (see also: crumch)


End file.
